[Verse 1] There’s a thunderstorm over India and a blue light blinking red There’s a continent beneath me turning slowly toward the bed Mission control says I’m drifting seven centimeters east I say, “Did anybody call my neighbor? She still has my spare key.” [Pre-Chorus] Because the fern was looking yellow when I left on Tuesday night And the little one beside it never did like too much light [Chorus] I can see the whole world from here every ocean, every cloud I can watch the cities flicker when the sun is going down I can see where all the borders are or where we say they ought to be But I can’t see my houseplants Can somebody check for me? [Instrumental Break] [Verse 2] At 04:13 this morning Houston lost me for a while So I floated by the window watching lightning on the Nile And I thought about the spider plant that kept making little clones Dropping roots into the empty air like it didn’t know it was alone Maybe somebody has watered it Maybe somebody forgot Maybe life is mostly reaching for whatever light we’ve got [Bridge] The Earth is very beautiful when nobody’s talking back Just weather moving over it and daylight on the black No arguments No headlines No reasons to be right Just one ridiculous green planet turning quietly through night And somewhere in an upstairs window if the radiator’s low there are four small leaves unfolding I would really like to know [Final Chorus] I can see the whole world from here but the whole world’s not enough There are things that disappear from view the farther you get up So when you call tomorrow morning you don’t need to tell me much Just say the fern is still alive and someone turned it toward the sun [Outro] Mission control says I’m drifting seven centimeters east The plants are fine. The plants are fine. … Okay. Good.
